Decayed Love
by Sulfuric-clouds
Summary: Bevil reflects on the woman his childhood friend has become and on his lost love for the girl she once was. NWN2, OC, Bevil x KC, sort of.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my KC.

**A/N:** I'm just toying with an idea. This story takes place during the third chapter of the original campaign as the KC recruits allies for the upcoming war.

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**Decayed Love**

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Bevil was pacing on the parapet walk, scanning the surroundings of Crossroad Keep for any abnormal activity. But the night was quiet and serene. The crescent moon shed a soft, silvery light on the fields facing the fortress and the vast plain covered with wheat seemed to stretch to infinity. There was not any puff of wind to trouble the peaceful scenery or add some motion to it. Everything stood still as if nature itself was holding its breath.

The sergeant's gaze wandered over the Keep, its battlements, its gates, its courtyard, checking for the Greycloaks under his command. They were all dutifully at their post, alert and ready to go into action if need be. He slowly shook his head. That was ridiculous. There were far too few men on watch tonight and they would be virtually useless if the place was assaulted. Sometimes, he really questioned Kana's wisdom.

Indeed, the lieutenant had suggested that as many soldiers as possible took part in the festivities organised to celebrate the new alliance forged between Neverwinter and the Ironfist Clan. It was supposed to be a kind of reward for all the hard work that had been done in the past weeks, as well as a means to rise the spirits of the troops. "With everything that awaits them, the men really need it," she had argued. The Knight Captain had listened to her advice and agreed, leaving the fort slightly too exposed for Bevil's tastes.

"You shouldn't be that nervous, nothing is going to happen tonight," stated a calm voice just behind his back.

Startled, he abruptly turned over and almost collided with the slender woman that was standing near him. He had not heard her approaching and she had managed to come closer than he had expected. So much for his sharp senses!

"Why did you sneak behind me like that?!" he asked, more shocked than angry "You almost gave me a heart attack, Varda! Well... I mean... I shouldn't have let my guard down, Captain. It won't happen again," he apologised as he remembered her rank.

"Varda was fine," she answered lightly, completely oblivious to his excuses and his display of military obedience "It's always been."

The warrior cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed and took a respectful step backwards. Then, he straightened up and froze in place for lack of any better thing to say or to do. No matter what he wished, they both were different now and they were no more the childhood friends they used to be. Moreover, Kana took all that hierarchy thing extremely seriously, so he had better get used to it.

The young woman was looking at him, her face impassive and the familiar warm feeling that had always clenched his heart whenever her dark grey eyes were on him was almost back. Almost. He had never seen her more elegant, dressed in a black one-sleeved gown, laces and silk everywhere, precious garnets adorning her neck, right wrist, fingers and ears. But her youthful beauty was definitely gone, her light somehow extinguished. She had changed so drastically in the course of a mere few months, as if she had aged of several decades. And she still became creepier day by day, a disturbing and malevolent aura constantly radiating from her.

"Are you all right, Bevil?" she questioned, not quite managing to sound worried, her faraway, unconcerned tone actually implying that the answer did not really matter.

"Yes, of course," he lied, just wishing to get away from her, to avoid the bitter-sweet memories she stirred in his mind "But you? Why do you waste your time with me? You certainly have some knightly duties to fulfil, right? Welcoming the emissaries, hearing Sir Nevalle speaking a few words in Lord Nasher's name, that sort of things," he said, gazing at the green cloak that she had received when she had been knighted and that was the only piece of her clothing that seemed out of place, as if it did not really belong to her.

"I never waste my time when I'm with you," she replied, her voice even softer than before, but suddenly more focused "Besides, I'm done with my chores for now and I did quite well, I think. Like a well-trained dog perfectly performing his tricks. They should all be happy with me."

Her sergeant uncomfortably shifted his weight from one foot to the other. For the first time, he realised that they had never truly discussed her situation. He had always assumed that she was proud of being where she was today. As far as he could recall, West Harbor had seemed too small and too confined for her, it could not bring her everything she needed. Her new position in Neverwinter suited her ambitious and bright spirit so much better. She was a noble, she had an entire fortress under her orders, important people listened to her words, she had the opportunity of demonstrating the extent of her abilities and skills. Who would not dream of such things? He knew he would have if he had been half as capable as she was.

But now, he also knew that he would have been wrong. He just had to look at his childhood friend to be definitely convinced of that fact. People's expectations, the responsibilities they had given her, the hard choices she had had to make, the endless fights for her life, all of this had somehow forced her to walk down a difficult, dangerous and dark path which had broken her, destroyed her until there was nothing left of the girl he used to care so deeply about.

_'Well, almost nothing,'_ he thought as he considered Varda's familiar who was firmly gripping his mistress' right wrist, hanging upside down and tightly enfolding his tiny body in his wings.

"But Ghyph doesn't look very happy with you," the young man noticed, nodding at the little creature.

"He doesn't like all those social niceties, that's why he's acting all grumpy," she said, smiling fondly at her bat "All that bowing, flattering, grinning, curtseying, sweet-talking... So utterly meaningless and useless!"

The small smile that had never reached her eyes also disappeared from her lips and the neutral mask she usually wore slipped once again back in place. Her regular features were frozen and her ashen face was unreadable. He could not even begin to guess what was going on in her mind. Unthinkable not even a year ago.

"Shall we go for a walk?" the young woman finally asked, extending her left hand towards him.

For a few seconds, he considered her leather gloved fingers that hung tentatively and invitingly in mid-air and eyed her graceful arm covered by the silken sleeve of her dress. He really had a hard time trying to repress the shiver of disgust that threatened to violently run through his spine as he thought of the abomination that laid underneath the black fabrics.

"I'm on duty, Captain. I can't leave my post," Bevil protested, trying his best to hide his reluctance.

"As you said, I'm your Captain," she stated matter-of-factly "And I think you deserve a break. Shall we?" she repeated.

There was steel in her voice even if it was as sweet as honey. She was ordering him around and he had to obey unquestioningly. There should have been mischief in it, like before. She should have been teasing him and he should have had to laugh happily about it. Nothing would ever be like before.

"All right! Let's go for a walk," he agreed as if he truly had a choice in the matter, taking the hand she offered him.

Her fingers intertwined with his own, clasping them with unnatural strength. An otherworldly chill seemed to go right through the leather of her glove and to seep into his hand, freezing it to the bones and making his skin crawl.

As they started to slowly amble along the parapet walk, so close to one another, he suddenly noticed that she wore perfume. The aroma of lilac flowers was wafting from her, reminding him of better times spent in a garden. But no perfume would ever be powerful enough to conceal the revolting stench of death and rotting flesh that followed her everywhere. It was faint, but it was still there. He could smell it and no amount of pretending would chase it away.

"I miss you, Varda," the young man eventually declared after several long minutes spent in an uncomfortable silence "I miss you so much."

The Knight Captain cast him a sideways glance, almost sad, but unwavering. She did not reply.

"You've always been such a clever girl. Amie said so, Tarmas said so, everyone said so. You could have studied anything. Why did you choose to study that? Why did you do that to yourself?" he asked, his voice quivering painfully as he thought of all the treasured things that had irremediably been wasted, that were forever lost now.

"Does it matter?" she shrugged, trying to brush his questions aside "Had I been a diviner, I still couldn't have returned your feelings."

The words were harsh although she spoke them gently and for a fleeting moment, he thought about denying the obvious. But there was no use. She had known for a long, long time anyway.

"That's right," he acknowledged "But were you a diviner, people wouldn't respect you only begrudgingly, people wouldn't instinctively recoil before you, sickened by what you are. Were you a diviner, you wouldn't be unable to feel, you wouldn't be so awfully akin to your undead minions."

By now, the young woman had let go of his hand and taken a few steps away from him. She definitely looked pained, but her grey eyes remained hard and determined. She could compel her features to take any expression, though deep down, there was nothing but an endless, empty void.

"Had you been a diviner, I'd still have been in love with you right now," he whispered, his voice desperate and almost inaudible "And that matters to me."

"I'm sorry, Bevil," she answered, still as dispassionate and as unfeeling as usual "I truly am. But there's no turning back."

He knew. He had known for some time. His love had died and decayed and there was no way to get it back. He just had to learn to live without it, without her.

"No matter what, you'll always be my best friend," she added over her shoulder as she retreated towards the Keep, leaving him alone in the night.

For the first time in his life, those words did not hurt.

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**A/N:** Thanks for having read.


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